Sergeant to Sergeant
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: Oneshot. There are things about Trudy Platt that only Hank Voight knows, and then there are things about his desk sergeant that even he doesn't know. The things he doesn't though, may just prove to be what saves his life.


Sergeant to Sergeant

Hank Voight marched himself to the front of the station house and asked his desk sergeant, "Trudy, what the hell's going on around here?"

Trudy was bent over a report and without even looking up, in her usual nonchalant tone, asked Voight, "You mean the weirdos that are being brought in, or the uniformed weirdos _bringing_ them in?"

"I go into the supply closet because a couple light bulbs burnt out upstairs," Voight told her, "And I find this."

"What?" Trudy pulled her head up from the report and started to turn around.

Trudy saw something through the corner of her eye a second before it landed on her desk, a large cardboard box full of metallic party hats, noisemakers and party blowout horns. She turned to the sergeant and met his eyes, and she saw that he suspected she knew something about this.

"What is this?" he asked her.

She looked back to the box and peered over the contents with her typical scrutinizing look on her face and told him, "I'm no expert on this subject, Hank, but I'd say…party supplies, preferably for a birthday party."

Voight kept most of what he was thinking under the surface but Trudy knew he was fuming. He turned around and took a couple steps before turning back and telling her, "Dammit, everybody here knows I don't want anybody remembering my birthday."

Trudy shrugged cluelessly and said, "Look on the bright side, maybe it's somebody else's birthday."

"No-no-no-no," Voight told her, "I know, I _know_ ," he picked the box up and dropped it on the desk again, "What is this? What the hell am I supposed to do with this stuff?" he picked up one of the blowouts and asked his desk sergeant, "What am I going to do with this, _tickle_ the perps until they surrender?"

In an almost completely deadpanned manner, Trudy half shrugged and commented, "Worked for Hong Kong Phooey."

"What the hell is going on around here, Trudy?" Voight wanted to know, "Who's behind this?"

Trudy eyed the box again and said dryly, "If I had to guess, that Little Mary Sunshine upstairs who thinks she's going to become a cop. It just reeks of something she'd do."

"Trudy," Voight told her, "I want you to put the word out, anybody so much as _wishes_ me happy birthday, I'm having them demoted." He turned around and started to walk away.

"Even Erin?" Trudy inquired.

Voight turned back to her and answered, " _Especially_ Erin, she lived with me, she knows better than the rest."

"Okay, Hank, got it, no problem," Trudy said as she picked up the box and put it behind her desk, "I'll take care of this, and I'll put the word out, don't you worry." She waited until Hank went back upstairs, and a few minutes later when she saw Roman and Burgess step in the front doors and they passed by her desk and she called out to the young cop, "Hey Roman, don't forget to wish your sergeant a happy birthday."

The two young officers turned around and looked at her in confusion, and Roman spoke up, "Uh, I didn't think Voight went for that kind of stuff, Sergeant."

"Are you kidding?" Trudy asked, "Do _not_ tell me you're going to let the whole day go by without telling him 'happy birthday'. How long have you worked here?"

"All due respect, Sarge," Burgess said to Trudy, "We were planning a surprise party for him, wouldn't he get suspicious?"

Trudy gave them one of her 'are you completely stupid?' looks and said to them, "Are you kidding? Believe me, Voight doesn't suspect a thing, he just wants to know that his own house hasn't forgotten him as he turns another year older." She addressed Sean specifically and told him, "Think about it, Roman, one of these days when you get on up there in age, you're going to wish somebody remembered _you_ when it happens."

"Uh…yeah…I guess so," he replied, dumbstruck, "Sorry."

Trudy maintained her hard-as-nails expression until the two of them were out of sight, then she bent over her report again and smiled to herself. God she loved this job. She resented being stuck behind a desk from the first day it happened, but you took the cards as they fell, and made the most of it, and especially in this line of work, you had to make your own fun, and it didn't come much better than jerking the rookies' chains around.

* * *

Another day, another shift of being Chicago's _true_ garbage man, Voight collected the scourge of the city, and did everything within his power to make sure they stayed where he put them. And now that the shift was over, he was going home. All he was in the mood for was a good stiff drink and then to pass out, and for that he decided to skip the middleman entirely of going to the bar with the others. He wanted to be alone for the night and that was all there was to it.

"Hey," he said to Erin as he passed her in the corridor, "Nothing personal, but unless it's an emergency, don't even think about coming over tonight."

Erin looked surprised, "You're not coming with us?"

"Nope," Voight shook his head, and continued to shake it through Erin's attempt to explain, "We were just going to go to Molly's for a round of drinks and…"

"Nope," Voight repeated, "All I want to do is go home and go to bed."

Lindsay looked confused but she responded, "Okay, Hank." She put on her jacket and said, "Oh by the way, ha…"

"No you don't," Voight shook a menacing finger at her, "Don't you dare say that to me. Besides, it's not even my birthday."

Now she really looked confused, "What're you talking about, Hank? It is _so_."

"No it's not," Voight shook his head again.

"Yes it is," Erin said, "I lived with you since I was 16, I remember."

"Then you're remembering it wrong," Voight told her, "It's not, alright? Now let it go."

Lindsay was quiet for a few seconds, then she finally responded, "Alright…goodnight, Hank."

"Goodnight," he replied, and headed out.

Lindsay turned and saw Trudy getting ready to leave, and walked over to the desk sergeant, "Hey Trudy, do you have any idea what's…"

"Sorry, Erin," Trudy said as she hastily pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put on her jacket, "I've got to get out of here, I've got an errand to run before it gets any later."

"Ah…okay," Lindsay responded, "See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, goodnight," Trudy passed her and headed out the door.

* * *

Voight had never wanted a big deal made about his birthday to begin with, but after his wife Camille passed away it especially ceased to be anything he saw as being worth remembering. Just another reminder he was another year older, another year closer to death himself, another year without his wife, another year in the ongoing strain of his relationship with his son, Justin, and the last thing he wanted was the people he worked with to try and make him feel better about the occasion. Of course he could appreciate the sentiment behind it, but he'd just as soon forget entirely what the day was, and let life resume tomorrow without any further mention of it. He got out of his car and walked up to his front door and reached in his pocket for his keys and had just put the right one in the door when out of nowhere, he felt something hit him hard on the back of the head.

"Ahh!" was all the sound he got out before everything went black.

When Voight came to, he recognized his immediate surroundings as being his garage, of which he was currently on the floor of, and tied up. The bright light overhead half blinded him but he was able to see the man hovering over him, someone he knew, someone he thought he'd never see again.

"Hello, Voight," the man said, "Remember me?"

Voight felt like half of his face had been smashed because it hurt to move any of the muscles in it, but he managed a halfway sarcastic look and responded, "Yeah, I remember…dog catchers must be on strike, the mutts are running loose."

The man standing above Voight was somewhere in his early 30s, of regular build, unruly brown hair, dirty clothes, and had the overall characteristics of a guy who just killed his therapist and broke out of the loony bin. Voight knew him as Brian Ellison, who he helped to put away several years ago on a whole string of violent charges. His head was throbbing right now and he would concede that he might have a concussion, but his mind was still enough in order to know this was too early to be time served for this guy.

The angry younger man looked down at Voight and sneered, "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"I try," Voight answered simply.

His response earned him a swift kick to the face, a groan escaped him but he knew better than to prolong it. This guy got off on inflicting pain on his victims, their sounds of agony and terror were a high for him.

"I bet you didn't think you'd be seeing me again so soon, Voight," Ellison said.

"Guess hell froze over after all," Hank responded.

"Yeah, you remember me, don't you?" Ellison knelt down and grabbed Voight by his collar and pulled him up and told him, "I'm the guy you sent to prison ten years ago, I told you I'd be back, I _told_ you I'd come for you some day."

"Guess in all that time a hobby was out of your league," Voight said.

Ellison knocked Voight's head against the floor, drawing another groan out of him.

"You _were_ my hobby, Voight," Brian told him, "All those years, day in, day out, all I thought about was coming back here and killing you."

"And people say _I_ need a life," Voight weakly responded, "I see _you're_ still nursing a grudge."

Brian grabbed him again and told him, "I never forgot what you did to me."

"Yeah, neither did I," Voight forced a pained smirk at him, "How by the end of the interrogation you were crying like a baby and begging for your life. You could dish it out to ten young women, but you sure couldn't take it yourself. You were a pussy then, Brian, and you're still a pussy now."

Voight heard the click of a gun and realized it was his own piece being pointed at him.

"You won't be saying that for long, Voight," Ellison told him.

"What're you going to do, shoot me and get it over with? That's not your style," Hank replied.

The power that the younger man currently had over the cop was giving him quite the exhilarating thrill, and he was getting high off of it and he told Voight, "Rest assure, Voight, long before I'm through with you, you'll beg for your life, then you'll be begging me to kill you."

"You giving lessons on that now?" Voight replied, "That was more _your_ specialty. 'Please don't kill me, please let me go, please let go _of_ me, please stop, please, I can't breathe, please, I'll talk, I'll confess'. I _know_ you tried to use that to get the case thrown out, get the charges dropped, get them reduced, get your sentence reduced…didn't work though, did it? Judge still said allocute, and 20 years before even the _possibility_ of parole. What'd you do, tie some bed sheets together? Dig a hole in your cell wall? Don't tell me, let me guess, you got yourself sent to the infirmary, then killed the doctor, stole his clothes, and checked out as him. That it?"

"You had _NO RIGHT_ to do that to me!" Brian yelled at him.

Voight remained calm as he responded deadpanned, " _You_ had no right to attack those girls, let's stick with the facts."

"Facts?" Ellison repeated, like the word itself was going to make him puke, "Facts? The _facts_ are you _abused_ your authority to violate me _and_ my rights."

Voight looked up at the man threatening him and said bluntly, "You got to be _human_ first to have those rights."

This seemed to infuriate the man even more, and he adjusted the aim of Voight's gun and told the cop, "It's going to be a pleasure watching you beg for mercy, _Sergeant_ Voight."

* * *

Trudy pulled up at the curb outside Voight's house and cut off the ignition. Opening the door, she grabbed a six-pack of beer and a small cake she'd picked up just before the store closed. The lights weren't on in the house but Trudy figured that just meant Voight didn't want people to know he was home, he _never_ went to bed this early. Trudy was halfway up the sidewalk when she heard a ruckus come from around the side of the house, followed by a gunshot. Her eyes widened and she doubled back to her car, put her stuff down, picked up her phone, and forewent 911 in favor of somebody who could actually be of help.

"Alvin, it's Trudy," she said, "I just pulled up at Hank's and there're gunshots coming from the back near the garage, bring some backup with you, I'm going in," and she disconnected before Olinsky could say anything.

Trudy reached into the backseat of her car and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun from its hiding spot under a blanket on the floor, and kept her senses about her as she headed around to the back to find out what the hell was going on here.

The light was on in Voight's garage and the door was open, and Trudy could see in and see Voight was laying on the floor, tied up, beaten, bleeding, and standing a few feet away from him was another man with a gun on him.

"Police, freeze!" Trudy bellowed as she raised the shotgun.

 _That_ , the gunman hadn't anticipated, he turned around and the shock on his face was most evident.

"Trudy!" Voight called to his desk sergeant.

Ellison recovered from his shock and raised Voight's gun at Trudy, but Trudy was faster and pulled the trigger.

Two shells of buckshot exploded in Ellison's chest and his whole body fell back as he lost the grip on Voight's gun and his head was thrown back in a prolonged scream of agony, that was as short lived as he was. He was dead a few seconds after hitting the floor.

Trudy lowered the gun but still held onto it in one hand as she ran over to Voight, who was losing a lot of blood and seemed to be teetering on unconsciousness.

"Hank, oh my God, Hank, can you hear me?" Trudy asked as she assessed how bad the damage was.

Voight tilted his head back and offered a weak smile and said to her, "Hey Trudy…glad you could make it…" and then he was out.

* * *

Every inch of Voight's body was hurting through variations of different types of pain. He opened his eyes and saw he was in a hospital room, more precise, in a damn hospital bed, and sitting beside his bed was Trudy. Hank didn't have the first damn idea how long he'd been in here but Trudy hadn't changed her clothes since the shooting and her once white shirt was now stained with long since dried blood spatter.

"Hank," she said, looking like she was about to fall out of her chair.

Voight felt his lips stuck together, he forced them apart and tried to say something, but his whole mouth felt like old shoe leather. He saw Trudy pick up a paper cup with a straw in it and hold it where he could grab the straw between his teeth. He sucked up some of the room temperature water and realized he was so thirsty he could almost inhale the straw. Instead he dropped it and leaned back and asked Trudy, "What happened?"

"You were in surgery for three hours while they dug the bullet out," Trudy told him, "Just missed your spine."

"Thank God for small favors," Voight said weakly, "Feels like I've been here more than a few hours."

"Because they operated yesterday, Hank," Trudy told him, "You hadn't woken up since then."

"And I don't remember waking up _before_ it either," he said, "Last thing I remember is…you…you shot Ellison."

Trudy nodded solemnly, "After he was dead, I got a good look at him, and I recognized him."

"He said he'd come back and get me someday," Voight told her, "I guess the other night was 'someday'. How the hell did he get out?"

"He and several other inmates were evacuated during an anthrax scare and they killed the prison bus driver and escaped, the media wasn't too quick to get word of it out until they were already in the wind otherwise we might've known they were coming…most of the other inmates have been recovered, there's still two or three on the loose but, everybody's pulling to find them," Trudy explained.

"Ellison was the only one out with a vendetta," Voight realized, "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you use that shotgun, for that matter, I'm not sure I remember you having it."

A small, melancholic smile formed on the desk sergeant's face as she told him, "I got it shortly after they assigned me to desk duty…I could appreciate what it would do to a person because it happened to me…I always figured there would come a day when I'd need it…" she pursed her lips and shook her head, "I always hoped I wouldn't have to though." She met his gaze and told him firmly, "But I'm glad I did."

"That makes two of us," Voight replied, "You've been here all this time?"

"Mostly," Trudy answered, "I left long enough to give my statement, they can make it whatever they want, I _know_ I was justified."

"I know you were too," Voight said, "It was my ass on the line if you didn't. But Trudy, why didn't you go home and change your clothes?"

Unfazed by the fact she was spattered in a man's dried blood, Trudy told him, "I didn't have that kind of time to waste, I _know_ what it's like waking up from being shot and no one's around, I wanted to make sure I was here when you finally came around. You might say I drew the straw to be here when you woke up."

"Ah, then the others are here," Voight said knowingly.

"They've been rotating," she told him, "Erin and Alvin have been here pretty much fulltime."

Voight tried to sit up but found his body still didn't want to cooperate too much, so he fell back against the pillows and asked her, "Who else is out there right now?"

"Ah, Burgess, Roman, Nadia…Antonio had to go home, something with his kid, and Halstead had…"

"I'm not too broken up about him missing this," Voight told her, "He probably thinks I had it coming."

Trudy looked down at him and said to him, "You just give me the word, Hank, I'll chew his ass up and spit him out."

"Thanks but that won't be necessary," Voight said, "But why do I have the feeling when everybody comes in here, they're going to have something to say to me _other_ than just 'get well soon'?"

"Well Hank, I guess with you being head of Intelligence that you're just too smart for us to try pulling one over on you," Trudy smiled at him, "You're too smart to fall for the old 'surprise birthday party' gag."

"You were in on that, weren't you?" Voight asked.

"Come on, Voight, even for rookies you have to give them more credit than that," she told him, "They'd never be dumb enough to leave all that crap where you might find it."

"You set me up," Voight said.

"Yes I did," she said, "It was worth it to see the look on your face."

"Okay," Voight closed his eyes for a few seconds, then looked at her again and asked, "So why did you come to the house?"

Trudy scoffed and answered, "It was your _birthday_ , you _knew_ I'd be there."

"Oh really?"

"I've only been coming over every year since…" Trudy trailed off and let the rest of her sentence remain unsaid.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Voight said, a bit humbled by Trudy's comment, "Thanks for being there."

"Anytime, Hank," Trudy said, "You feel up to seeing the others now?"

"Sure, bring them in," he answered, sounding his usual unfazed self.

Trudy went over to the door and called out, "Alright everyone, get in here but keep it down."

Lindsay was the first one in and over to Hank's bed, she reached down and hugged him and tried not to hurt him, "How're you doing, Hank?"

"I'm fine," he told her, and tried to sound more reassuring to that, "I'm fine, I don't need anybody making a big fuss over me."

"Hey Hank," Olinsky came in behind Erin, "How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine," he reasserted, "I _want_ to get out of here."

"Doctors haven't cleared that yet," Olinsky told him.

"I don't give a damn what the doctors clear," Voight said to his partner and friend, "I want to get out of here, I don't like hospitals, they're full of sick people, last thing I need is to get the flu on top of being shot."

"A big tough guy like you?" Erin teased him as she patted his hand, "You hang in there."

"Alright," Voight addressed everybody in the room and told them, "I know you've all got something to say to me, so get it over with now while I'm in this damn bed and can't do anything about it."

Nadia, Burgess and Roman looked to each other and shrugged and said to him in unison and in low energy, "Happy birthday, Sergeant."

"That's it?" Voight asked, underwhelmed, "That's what I was trying to avoid all day?"

"Well just wait till we get you back home," Lindsay told him, "We got a bottle of something strong and 10 years old for you back at the precinct."

"Now _that_ sounds like a present," Voight smiled.

"We're all just glad to still have you with us, Hank," Lindsay said, " _That's_ the present."

Voight looked up at his men (and women) and felt that emotions were threatening to overflow, and he told them in a nonchalant manner, "Hey…it's Wednesday, right? It's nobody's day off, get back to work, the city's being eaten alive out there. Go, make me proud."

There was a series of goodbyes expressed as one by one everybody left Voight's room, until it was just he and Trudy again.

"You too, Trudy," he said.

"Ah, I'll go back in a little while," she told him as she walked over to the bed, "You know, Voight, I know why you don't like celebrating your birthday but I think you're looking at it all wrong."

"Oh?" he asked her, "How so?"

"Well think about it," she said to him, "What're we celebrating? You're another year older, it's another year you're _with_ us, another year that Lindsay will have you as the father she needs. And especially given what you just went through, the idea of having you with us for another year is _very_ appealing."

A small chuckle escaped from Voight's throat and he replied, "I guess you got a point, I never thought about it like that." He looked up at the desk sergeant and said to her, "Trudy."

"What?"

"Go home," he told her, "Get some rest."

"I'm fine, Hank," she said.

"I know you are, but do it anyway," he ordered her.

Trudy huffed in protest but complied, "Alright." She headed for the door, and just about opened it, when she suddenly turned around and went back to the bed and half-collapsed on the side railing and threw her arms around Voight, "If anything would've happened to you, I don't know what I would've done."

"You would've been alright," he told her.

She shook her head, "If you weren't there anymore, I'd resign."

"Now don't be overdramatic," Voight told her.

"I mean it, Hank," she replied, "Working for someone other than you, wouldn't be worth it. I'd take early retirement if that happened."

"Trudy," Voight made sure he had her attention, and told her plainly, "It's alright, it's over, I'm fine, go home, get some rest."

"Alright," she finally agreed, and headed for the door, she turned back and said hesitantly, "I'll see you later, Hank."

Voight gave a weak wave goodbye, and once the door was shut, he settled back against the bed, and shortly after, he fell asleep.

* * *

"Happy belated birthday, Hank," Trudy held out a beer bottle and clinked it with Voight's as they sat on the couch in his living room. His first day back from the hospital and they'd agreed to have their annual get-together that night.

"Thanks, Trudy," Voight said as he took a swig of his, "So bring me up to speed on what I've missed."

"Okay," Trudy thought for a minute and said, "I went to the chiropractor on Thursday for my yearly appointment."

Voight blinked, " _And_?"

"And what?" Trudy asked, "That's all the more exciting things have been since you've been gone. I don't know what to tell you, Hank, but the criminal world hasn't exactly been reveling in the fact that you're not there to kick its ass."

"We'll see about that," Voight said, "I plan to come in tomorrow."

Trudy made a small sound under her throat and was otherwise quiet for a minute, then she spoke up, "Hey, I brought over a video for us to watch."

"What?" Voight asked.

Trudy got up from the couch, went over to the table and picked up a DVD, "What's a relaxing evening at home without The Three Stooges?"

Voight chuckled as Trudy put the disc in the player.

"I always loved these nitwits," she told Voight, "I watched them every afternoon when I got home from school."

"You and me both," Hank said, "I hope these are the early ones."

"Of course," Trudy replied, "Everybody knows Curly's what made them work." She turned to Voight and noticed that he was staring at her, and she asked him, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was just thinking," Voight said as he put his beer down, "How different things would be if the patrolmen knew what you were really like."

"Well where would the fun be in that?" she asked him.

"You guard yourself pretty well, Trudy, but I think you overdo it at times," Voight told her.

"Hey," Trudy replied, "The less people know about me, the better protected I am."

"No argument there," Voight picked up his bottle and clinked it with hers again.

* * *

Six beers, an hour and a half, and about 500 eye pokes and pies in the face later, Voight shut off the TV and looked over at Trudy, who seemed to already be feeling the effects of the alcohol; his desk sergeant was half asleep on his couch and didn't look like she'd be getting up anytime soon without the assistance of a cattle prod.

"Trudy," he reached over and tapped her, nothing, "Trudy," he poked her, that got a small grunt out of her, but she still didn't open her eyes.

Not that Voight was worried about Trudy's reputation if word got out she spent the night at his house, his people _knew_ better, still, he figured once Trudy woke up in the morning, she'd need a good head start on freshening up before she came in for work, and that would be far easier at her own place than dashing from Voight's place to hers first thing in the day.

"Come on, Trudy," Voight said to the nearly unconscious woman as he picked up his keys, "I'll drive you home."

She grumbled something in return as he helped her to her feet and walked her out the door and to the car. It was a short drive spent in total silence as far as the driver and passenger were concerned. Voight looked over and saw Trudy had her head to the side and had her cheek pressed against the window as she slept. Hank knew he never said it enough, but Trudy was a good friend and he was blessed to have her, especially after last week. He remembered what she said about resigning if anything should ever happen to him, that was a loyalty he knew from no one else in his house, it left him touched, and speechless.

"Alright, Trudy, here we are," he said as he pulled the car to a stop.

Trudy was still 90% dead to the world so Voight had to assist her out of the car and walk her up the stairs, and then prop her against the wall for a moment while he tried the door and found it locked. He turned to his desk sergeant and told her, not sure if she heard him or not, "Alright, Trudy, I'm going to look through your pockets for your keys… _don't_ hit me." He fished through her jacket pockets and came up with a key ring, he found the one that fit the lock in the door and pushed it open. It was pitch dark inside so Voight felt along the wall for the light switch, now all he had to do was walk Trudy towards her bedroom and get her settled down for the night and…

 _Click_

"Surprise!"

Voight almost had a heart attack. Scattered around the room was everybody from the station: Lindsay, Burgess, Ruzek, Roman, Nadia, Antonio, Alvin, Atwater, and even Halstead, all for a switch dressed in their civilian clothes. As soon as he recovered from his shock, he turned back and saw his desk sergeant with one arm pressed against the wall and a smug look on her face.

"Trudy!"

"Sorry, Hank," she shrugged, "I just couldn't resist."

Voight was fuming, "You had this all planned, didn't you?"

"You getting hog tied and shot and hospitalized for a week? No, I had nothing to do with that," Trudy answered and shook her head, "But yes, we decided it would be better to let you 'find' everything first, and have enough time to feel sure of yourself nobody would _ever_ try throwing you a party, and _then_ surprise you with it."

"Come on, Hank," Nadia came up with Roman helping her carry a large sheet cake with about 20 candles on it all lit and gradually melting the frosting off, "Make a wish and blow out the candles."

"You don't _want_ to know what my wish is," Voight told her.

"Come on, Hank," Lindsay said, "Get it over with before the whole place burns down."

"Do you need any help?" Antonio asked teasingly.

"Ha-ha, shut up," Voight warned him, "Stay back, I got this."

He looked at the small flames conspiring together to make one big fire and the heat was about to burn everybody standing around it. Voight sucked in a slow but long breath and then blew with all his might and blew all the candles out almost simultaneously, which drew a round of applause from the women in the room anyway.

"Of course we couldn't actually get enough candles on the cake," Antonio told Voight, "Because uh…none of us has any idea how old you really are."

"35 is good enough for me," Voight answered bluntly.

 _That_ drew a round of laughter from the people in the room, which in return earned them a few dirty looks from their sergeant.

"Come on, Hank, how about a speech?" Trudy asked.

He looked at her and looked around at the others, and an annoyed smile formed on his face and he told them, "Alright, I'm only going to say this once, so everybody listen up. First of all…if you _ever_ try doing this again, I'm going to have every single one of you bumped down to dog catchers."

All that did was earn another round of laughs from everybody. A more genuine smile found its way on Voight's face and he added in a slightly softer tone, "Second of all, I really appreciate what you did, I know it was a lot of work and a lot of planning to pull this over on me, and it gives me a great pleasure to actually _be_ here to enjoy it. So, thank you all."

And that earned another round of applause, this time from everyone.

"Sounds like a toast is in order," Ruzek suggested.

"Yeah we'll get to that in a minute," Voight said, "But right now…this is my birthday so we're going to do things _my_ way…so _I_ …am going to spank _Trudy_."

"Whoa! No!" Trudy moved away from Voight and tried to put as much distance between she and he as possible, and ran behind Atwater for protection. Antonio and Halstead came around from the other side and grabbed her and dragged her, half trying to remain her 'serious' and 'hardened' self, and half giving way to fits of hysterical laughter and screaming at the absurdity of it all, back to Voight, who had pulled out a chair and had one foot resting on it.

"No, Hank," Trudy tried to fight them and was almost incoherent over her laughing.

"You conspired against me, Trudy," Voight told her as he sat down, "You leave me no choice."

"No, Hank, don't," Trudy pleaded as Voight grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over his knee, and whacked her once loud enough the sound filled the room. "Ah!" Trudy started kicking but it didn't do her any good as Voight whacked her on the backside again, drawing another yelp out of her several decibels higher than most of the people in the room had ever heard from her, all the while the other people in the room had an initially shocked, and overall good long laugh at seeing their desk sergeant being brought down a notch at the moment. Voight, somehow maintaining a straight face through this, popped Trudy on the butt a few more times, each time her screams became higher pitched than before in between her hysterical laughs, after about the tenth time he finally decided to give up and let Trudy off of his knee.

"Oww," Trudy moaned as she rubbed her backside, "You fight dirty, Voight."

He just smiled at her and asked, "Would you have me any other way?"

She smiled in return and told him, "Happy birthday, Hank. You know I'd still do it all again."

"I know," he responded, "That's why you're a good friend."

Trudy smiled at Voight, then turned around and addressed everybody else in the room with one of her typical desk sergeant scowls and warned them, "If any of you breathe one _syllable_ of this outside of this room, I will hunt you down and make you _suffer_."

And they knew her well enough to know she _would_.

"Alright," Voight addressed everyone in the room, "You already went to all this trouble, let's get the party started."


End file.
